From the Darkness
by Rebekkah
Summary: The aftermath of Jack's decision to close the iris.


**From the Darkness**

**Chapter 1: Ruminations**

O'Neill lay stiffly in his bed, arms folded beneath his head as he stared into the darkness surrounding him. His eyes were cold and dark. He could not get the look she had given him out of his mind. Once upon a time, there would have been no looking back, no second-guessing a move he had made. Once upon a time, a pair of crystal blue eyes wouldn't have given him a moment's hesitation. But he had lain here for hours, in this same position going over and over the moment in his mind.

All of a sudden, he jerked himself out of the bed. He had not bothered to undress when he got to his house, merely thrown himself on the bed and that was where he had remained as the darkness covered the room. He quickly put his running shoes on and headed out the door. A really good run was what he needed to clear his mind.

He ran hard, not bothering to pace himself, but fully aware of his surroundings. He would welcome a distraction tonight. He ran as fast as he could, but he couldn't outrun the blue eyes staring at him in disbelief and accusation.

**Chapter 2: Ruminations 2**

She lay in her bed, tossing and turning. She finally sat up and threw the covers to the floor. The thoughts in her head fought with her feelings. She wasn't sure if she was more angry with him or herself. She dressed quickly in her leathers and went to the garage. She closed the garage door with the remote as she headed out of her driveway on the motorcycle.

At this time of night, there wasn't much traffic and she was able to get out of the neighborhood quickly. She headed towards the outskirts of town, making sure she didn't turn onto his street, as was her habit when in this area. She didn't think it would be a good thing to try to talk this one out, at least not yet.

**Chapter 3: Punishment**

He had been running for about 40 minutes or so he estimated. He had pushed himself, more so than usual. He was beginning to breathe heavily, sweat soaked his clothing and he finally slowed, his mind searching for bearings as he realized he must have run for at least 5 miles. He stopped, bending over with his hands on his knees as he glanced around. The area was pitch black, the stars and moon covered with clouds. The houses were few and far between in this area and were set back away from the roads. He breathed evenly, as the aching in his legs finally registered. He could control the pain; he'd learned that in Iraq. Why couldn't he get this mission out of his mind? Debriefing was over and that usually meant he could forget it … usually.

It wasn't just Carter. He really felt bad about how he had treated Daniel while they were on Euronda. Daniel, however, knew Jack and had come to him afterwards and heard Jack's second apology and then dismissed it. They had gone and had coffee and some kind of pastry in the commissary. Things were going to be ok between them. Daniel felt Jack had learned something and that was all it took for Daniel to be happy, someone learning something. Yes, he and Daniel were going to be ok. And Carter … well, Carter was his 2IC. It didn't matter if she agreed with every decision, as long as she obeyed them.

Which, of course, was why he was out on this dark, damp road, now very far from a comfortable walking distance with his aching knees. He shook his head and grinned a self-effacing grin, turning back towards the way he had come.

"Well, I guess I showed her." He said to himself.

**Chapter 4: Amateurs**

He turned back towards his home and had gone about a ½ mile or so without passing anyone on foot on in a vehicle. He heard the sound of someone approaching and it registered that they were attempting to be stealthy. He could tell by the frequent stops and pauses. As though they were listening or watching to see if he heard them.

He kept his pace, face front as his eyes checked his perimeter and his ears tuned to the noises they were making. He thought there were 2, possibly 3 of them. By the noises they made, he could tell they were not very good at this and that they were not heavily built. He paused and knelt; pretending to tie his shoe as he surreptitiously eyed the area. He was almost to the bend in the road where he would start downwards and there saw his chance. He stood up and moved off still maintaining his equal pace. As he rounded the bend, he ducked into the dark, thickly covered ditch, crouching quickly. He had only a moment to wait as the three men turned the bend. They stopped as they saw he had disappeared.

"Where is he?" The tallest of the three asked as they all looked around.

"Shut up, stupid. He'll hear you."

"I think he's already on to us."

"But where could he have gone so fast?"

"He's hiding." The heavier one pointed out. "Hey, mister, come on out. We're not going to hurt you. We're just kind of lost and needed directions."

A grunt of amusement from 'Tall Guy' belayed that comment. O'Neill kept quiet as they got closer to his location. He knew from their attitudes it would take a lot of thinking on their parts to actually find him. He wasn't concerned.

There was a sound approaching them from the south. As it steadily got closer, he recognized it as a motorcycle. The three of them conferred quickly, seeing a new chance since the first had apparently disappeared.

"Short attention span." O'Neill remarked to himself. "Amateurs."

**Chapter 5: The Incident**

One of the guys had lain down in the road with another kneeling next to him. The third had disappeared into the bushes, only a few steps from where O'Neill watched. The glow from the motorcycle's headlight grew larger as it came closer. The men in the road waited until the light touched them and then went into their act. The one kneeling waved his arms, calling out for the rider to stop and help.

The motorcycle slowed as it got closer, the rider appearing to hesitate before finally coming to a halt several feet from the two in the roadway. The rider didn't shut the bike off immediately, instead bracing his legs in a position to move out quickly.

"Please, help us. My friend was hit by a car. They just took off."

A moan from the downed man backed up the story. After another hesitant look around, the rider kicked the kickstand down and shut off the engine. As O'Neill watched, something pricked the hair on the back of his neck. He shut his eyes for a second, stifling a moan of his own as he recognized the rider. His fears were confirmed when he heard the voice call out "How badly is he hurt?"

"I don't know, there's a lot of blood."

She came closer, still alert and hesitant. The guy in the bushes near O'Neill shifted slightly, causing a rustling from the dry brush. Carter heard the noise and stopped.

"Lady, please, he's hurt bad."

"I'll call for help." She started to move away. The men, realizing that she was going to try to run, moved quickly. The one in the bushes jumped out, pulling a knife from his belt as he blocked her way back to the bike. She turned so that they surrounded her only on two sides and kept backing away from them.

"I don't have my wallet with me …" She began, raising her hands in a show that she carried nothing.

"Maybe you've got it hidden in that leather gear."

"Not much hidden in that get up." 'Tall Boy' laughed.

O'Neill studied them intently, determining that if they had any weapons other than the knives all three were now brandishing they would have pulled them. He watched as Carter removed her helmet and stopped backing up.

They were grinning as they sized up their new prey. Their eyes moving over the tight leather pants and jacket. He watched as she moved into defense mode. Apparently one of them had some kind of defensive training as he recognized her movements, too.

"Hey, surround her, but don't get too close. At least not yet."

They were only a few feet away from her, circling and brandishing the knives towards her. They began taunting her, telling her the things they had planned for her. Carter remained silent, waiting. Then one of them got too close and she went into action.

The helmet lashed out, catching 'Short Stuff' on the side of the head. Before he could recover, she kicked another in the stomach and used the helmet again on the third one. She pushed 'Short Stuff', who was still shaking his head to clear it, causing him to go face first into the pavement and clearing her way to the bike. She ran towards it, but 'Tall Boy' caught her in a tackle, taking her down with him. Her forehead scraped against the asphalt, but she ignored the pain as she hit at him with her fists; bringing blood to his mouth but not making him release his hold. His own fist struck out twice.

O'Neill made his move as she had moved towards the bike, going for the one he hadn't named yet. "Hey." He tapped his shoulder. The guy spun, his fist coming up. O'Neill caught his wrist, twisting it and bringing the arm down and around to the guy's back. He held the arm painfully high and grabbed the knife from the rapidly numbing hand. He moved the blade to the man's throat.

"Hey," He called to 'Tall Boy'. "Wanna trade?"

The unknown voice halted the assault on Carter. He grabbed her by the jacket front with the knife at her chest. He had finally got her arms pinned down and was holding them in place with his knees. "I don't think so. I got the better part of the deal."

"See, you can't trust anyone." O'Neill pointed out to his prisoner. "So, no on bargaining?" He returned his question to Carter's captor.

"How about I get to keep her and you let dumb ass go?"

O'Neill appeared to consider it. "No … I don't think I can do that. See, she's part of my team and if I lose one, there's all kinds of paperwork to fill out."

"Well, then I guess you're going to be busy for a while. The lady here is going to take me for a little ride." He pulled her to her feet, keeping the knife against her chest.

"But, if I let you take the bike, I'll have to walk all the way back home. So, _I_ think you should just let her go and the three of you should lie down in the road here until the authorities come."

"And we're going to do this because you ask us nicely?" He laughed.

"No … do it because I'm not asking … _nicely_." His hand came up from behind his prisoner holding his 9mm, pointing it in the direction of 'Tall Boy's' forehead. He saw the third guy coming around and motioned for him to join 'Tall Boy'. He shoved the one he had disarmed towards them, still pointing the gun at the leader. "Carter?" He questioned. "You gonna join me or you like your new friends better?"

The knife moved up closer to her throat as the man holding her attempted to reassert his control over the incident. As he moved, so did Carter, biting down on the hand with the knife as she turned and hit him with the heel of her palm and then kicked out, dislodging the knife. It flew off to scatter against the road.

"Now, ladies, face down. Quickly." He motioned Carter over to him. "Do you have your cell?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wanna call the locals?"

"Yes, sir. Of course." She did as was requested while O'Neill leaned against the seat of the bike, the gun still trained on the would be muggers.

Their wait wasn't too long as the flashing lights rounded the bend. Carter denied needing any medical attention when the officers asked if she wanted the paramedics called. Two officers took control of the three men as another two took statements from Carter and O'Neill. As the scene was slowly cleared, one of the officers asked if O'Neill needed a lift home.

"Carter, mind giving me a ride?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Ok. Thanks Officer, I guess it's covered."

"Yes, sir. Thanks for your help with these three. Someone from the department will probably be getting in touch with you in the next day or so."

"Just contact Cheyenne Mountain. They'll be able to reach us."

Soon the area had cleared and it was just the two of them. O'Neill again leaned against the bike as Carter watched him. His arms were folded across his chest and he didn't say anything as he stared back in return. She blinked and ducked her head, turning to pick up her helmet and putting it on. It helped, hiding her features from his scrutiny. She then moved to the bike and he finally stopped watching her and moved away enough so she could get on and start the bike. He climbed on behind her, without speaking and moved his hands to her waist.

She stiffened at the contact and he moved his hands away to hold onto the back of the seat. Putting the bike in gear, she pulled off heading in the direction of his home.

**Chapter 6: Nice night for a ride**

Neither one attempted a conversation during the short ride. As he got off the bike, Carter sat silently.

"Come on in. Let's get you cleaned up."

"That's ok, sir. I'll just do it at home."

"Carter. Come inside. I think we need to talk."

"What about, sir?"

"Well, for starters how about the fact that you were out riding in a desolate area at an ungodly hour, by yourself."

"Begging you pardon, sir. But, I'm a big girl, not to mention an Air Force Officer, trained in self defense."

"Who, being the genius you're purported to be, should have known better than to put yourself in a situation like that."

"And what about you, sir? You were out running in the same circumstances."

"That's different." He insisted, though not really clear on why it was different.

"Because I'm a woman?"

"For crying out loud, Carter. Come inside. If we're going to have a shouting match, I'd rather not wake the neighbors. Most of them are elderly."

"Is that an order, sir?" She sat stubbornly on the bike.

He reached over and removed the key. Pocketing it, he turned and headed into the house, leaving the door open behind him.

**Chapter 7: Confrontations**

She slammed the kickstand in place and followed the Colonel into his house. The hallway was dark, only lit by the outside streetlights. She shut the door and turned towards the living room. He sat in one of the easy chairs, his fingers steepled against his lips as she entered the room and stood next to the informal seating arrangement, removing her helmet and placing it on the chair next to her. He had turned on one small lamp, which cast a shadowy glow on less than half the room.

"Please, sit." His voice was calm, countering the dark eyes and countenance. It was eerily remindful of that moment they stepped through the Gate yesterday. The same coldness she felt from him then was quickly chilling the entire room. She shivered involuntarily and her hands came up to lightly grip her arms.

He watched her steadily. "Want a beer? Coffee?" The one sided conversation was polite and completely out of sync with his expression, or lack thereof.

"Sir, what did you want to talk about?"

His glance covered her features. Without answering, he rose and moved towards the doorway. "Wait here." His tone brooked no refusal.

She stood uncertainly, waiting. He returned with a cloth, a bottle of antiseptic and a glass two thirds full of an amber liquid. He sat the items down on the table next to her and took both her arms, easing his grasp as she tried to stifle her reaction from the pain. He moved her to the arm of the chair and pushed her to sit. He took the glass again and swallowed some of the contents then, placing the glass in her hand and moving it towards her mouth he told her "Drink."

She swallowed the burning liquid and he removed the glass from her hand, finishing off the whiskey. He then took the cloth and poured some of the contents of the bottle on it, applying it carefully to her lip and the cut above her eye. She gasped a little at the sting of the antiseptic against the open cuts. He moved a piece of hair from her forehead and gently touched the bruise forming there. His expression was hard to read as the one lamp he had turned on was at his back. His eyes glinted in the shadows and she found she couldn't meet them.

"I should probably go." She stated flatly.

"Really? I don't agree. I think we need to get this out." Again, his voice was deceptively calm.

"Sir, I admit, I wasn't thinking clearly tonight. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Carter, what I want to hear is why you were out there at that time of the night." He moved a step away from her, placing the dampened cloth and antiseptic back on the table and throwing himself more into the shadows. "If a member of my team has a death wish or is some sort of thrill seeker, I would like to be made aware of it."

"No, sir. No death wish and I'm usually more subjective in my riding. I was not thinking clearly."

"So you said before. My question is this; why were you not thinking clearly?"

"I'd rather not say, sir."

"Drop the sir, Carter. This is just between you and me. No ranks, no holdback."

"Then, if it's all the same to you, sir, I'll just go."

"Alright, the rank holds just enough to make it an order to stay and talk this out."

"It's not up to me to question you, sir. Or any order you give."

"The hell it isn't. Why do you think you're my 2IC? My leadership on my team may not be democratic, but it also isn't autocratic. I requested you as my 2IC precisely because I knew you'd not let me get away with illogical decisions."

"Sir, one of your greatest qualities as a leader is your illogic. It's what throws the other side off."

The shadows had lifted just enough that she could see the smirk that her comment had evoked. "You're not going to placate me out of this confrontation, Carter. We need to talk about Euronda."

"There's nothing to talk about. We said it all in the debriefing."

"_You_ said nothing in the debriefing. Not even about … what happened coming through the Gate."

"You …" She stopped, forcing the words back.

"I ordered the iris closed, knowing he would try to come through."

"Yes, sir." Her face turned to his. "Why? Tactically …"

"There was no tactical reason. It was purely emotional." His voice was hard again. "I didn't like him. Or his beliefs." His voice went quiet. "And I didn't like that he was able to take me in with his lies."

"So you allow a man to be destroyed … like that?"

"Yes." He ran his hand across his face. "I can't take it back Carter. I'm not even sure if I would if I could. He was the epitome of everything I hate."

"You did warn him. You told him not to try to come through."

"Yeah, knowing he'd still come."

"You couldn't have been sure."

"Don't try to make me or my motives clean in any way, Carter." He sat down across from her, his head cradled in his hands for a moment before pulling them away and looking at her again. "I've done a lot worse, Carter, over my nefarious career. Dark, horrifying things. You've heard, I'm sure of some of my less classified objects. Use that as a reason for a new placement."

"Are you putting me off your team? Off SG1?"

"I'm giving you an out."

"And what if I don't want an out?"

"I thought that was what this was all about."

"No, sir. At least not exactly."

"Then … what?" He was confused now.

"I need to understand, Sir. Why did you close the iris?"

"To stop Alar from coming through."

"And you did that because …?"

"I hated him." He sighed. "I'm not a hero, I didn't do it for some greater cause."

"You were a hero to me, sir."

"And now, I'm a cold blooded killer."

"No, sir. You're a flesh and blood man. One with faults like everyone else. But you are also one of the best leaders I've ever served with. Why do you think SG1 is the flag team of the SGC?"

"Your brains, Danny's brains, Teal'c's warrior ability, at which you also are no slouch."

"And you, sir. We wouldn't be SG1 if not for you."

"I thought you were disappointed."

"I was. I am. In you for allowing your hatred of Alar to take over your skills. And in myself for not allowing you to be human."

"How can you call that human?"

"Not necessarily what you did, sir. But you yourself. You're human. You have feelings, you love, and you hate."

"So, every dirty, horrible thing I've ever done gets brushed away. Hidden under 'he's human'? Trust me, Carter, that's not human."

"You're a good man, sir."

He snorted. "Hell, Carter, in a few more minutes you're going to have me a damned national treasure."

"You are, sir. To me and to the hundreds at SGC and to billions of others who will never know what you've had to do to keep them safe."

"Carter …"

"You _are_ a good man, sir." She repeated. "Who's done some very dark things and you live with that every day. I think you deserve a little slack, especially from your friends."

"So you're saying it's ok? What I did?"

"No. I'm saying I'm trying to understand it. To put myself in your place. I'm saying everyone does things they regret later and I'm saying I have no right to judge you."

He was silent for a long moment. "You have that right, Carter, if anyone does." He spoke softly "I hated that man. I hated the things I did on that planet. I helped them shoot down innocent people. I yelled at Daniel and told him to shut up, humiliated him. I was a jerk to you. Teal'c was the only one who escaped my acid tongue."

"Well, you've yelled at Daniel before, and I'd be willing to wager you will again. He accepted your apology. And as for being a jerk with me … well, sir, you are a Colonel and in my experience that's what they do. The only part I'm having difficulty with is …"

"Closing the iris."

"Yeah." She whispered. "You were so cold, so frightening."

"It was an assassination, Carter. And I did it right in front of you and Daniel and Teal'c. I wasn't ordered to do it and General Hammond had no idea that I had until the debriefing. I couldn't let him come through. It would have been like inviting Hitler or Ho Chi Minh or Ben Laden to come home with us. Even at the end, he couldn't understand what he had done. He was a self centered, self serving, bigot."

"I'm not saying you were wrong sir and I can't say that you were right. You judged him and then executed him."

"That's what I do. That's what you may have to do someday when you lead the team. A part of me hopes you never have to make those decisions, but you're too good at leading. So I can only hope that either I'm not around to see it, or that I can be there to hold you through it. Just … don't leave the team. We need you too much."

One sentence stood out from the rest in his last words. "Sir, let me be there to hold you through it."

His head jerked up and his eyes narrowed questioningly.

"As your friend, sir. As your 2IC. As whatever you need me to be."

He still held back and she smiled softly at him. She held her arms out to him, the way he did with her when she needed to be held and said his own magic words back to him;

"Come here."

He stared into the same blue eyes that had haunted him all day and night and finally smiled and stepped into the haven she offered him, burying his face in the hair at her neck.

It wasn't forgiveness, she still wasn't sure she was able to do that yet, or even if she had the right. It was an acceptance of the man himself good and bad, dark and light.


End file.
